Sonnets by Edward Moxon |
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| XXIX. | SONNET XXIX.
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 | Sonnets |  |
35
SONNET XXIX.
[Methinks I should be blest if free to rove]
Methinks I should be blest if free to rove,Dear friend, those solitary vales with thee,
Now that May holds her youthful jubilee,
Filling with warblings wild the enchanted grove.
Care haunts not oft the shade, nor avarice;
But sweet contentment with her sisters bland,
Making earth semblance of a fairy land.
Ah me! no sooner shall eve's dew drops kiss
Yon hill's bright slope, where lingering sunbeams play
In dalliance soft, than with a heavy heart
From these lov'd scenes and thee I must depart;
Nor like those beams return, but far away
Lone journey among crowds in turmoil rude,
A weary wight panting for Solitude.
| Sonnets | |